


the habits of a heart

by orphan_account



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Angst, M/M, Soulmate AU, implied self harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-01
Updated: 2016-10-07
Packaged: 2018-08-12 07:39:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7926244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>baz doesn’t believe in love or soulmates but that doesn’t change the fact that he has one</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. chapter one

Baz doesn’t believe in love. He doesn’t believe in soulmates or the words stamped on the inside of his forearm like a promise he never asked for.  _ What are you doing?  _ \- written in a thick, messy scrawl. The kind an artist or an architect or someone with a perpetually messy room would have. 

 

He used to imagine how he and his soulmate would meet- he’d be playing his violin in a square somewhere, or in a green garden- and a beautiful boy would walk up to him and say “What are you doing?”- he’d say it like a magic spell or a prayer, because that’s the way soulmates are supposed to be. Baz would smile like it was an answer and say something romantic. “Waiting for my soulmate.” Or “Waiting for  _ you.” _

 

When Baz was fourteen, he decided he’d meet his soulmate on the tube. It would be late at night and the car would be rocking back and forth- and it would be mundane but somehow quirky- like one of those films about manic pixie dream girls. He’d playing an app on his phone and someone would lean over and tap him on the shoulder and then it would be all golden smiles and love at first sight- like love even existed. 

 

When he was sixteen, he changed his mind. He’d be sitting in the library, studying- eyes half shut in exhaustion, a cup of coffee grown cold beside him. And his soulmate would sit down across from him to ask what he was doing. Baz’s head would snap up-and then he would smile mysteriously- and say nothing.  _ Actually, _ nothing- not the word nothing. What an unromantic way to greet your soulmate- by saying nothing. 

 

When Baz turned twenty, he decided it didn’t matter. Love didn’t exist, and if it did it wasn’t worth all the heartbreak that came with it. It wasn’t worth the crying and the funerals because it was bad enough with a family member- he wasn’t going to lose the love of his life. He wasn’t going to  _ have _ the love of his life. 

 

He wasn’t going to turn into his father- leaning over the counter at the local pub, surrounded by empty glasses that left rings on the dark wood. There were nights and nights of rings on that counter- overlapping like crescent moons. His father had been making a good portion of those stains, recently. These days, Malcom was staying out too late and either crying or snapping whenever someone tried to talk to him. 

 

Malcom Grimm-Pitch had never been a good man, but without Natasha around, he was even worse. A mess really, but that’s expected when your soulmate dies. The inky cursive script on his left hand had disappeared- and no one could help themselves from staring. The skin where his mark had been was paler- and you could see the outline of his mother’s handwriting still. His father was falling apart, but Baz was more worried about his little sister, Mordelia. She was fifteen- so she wasn’t a little girl anymore, but he still felt like he needed to protect her. 

 

“If he goes off on you, call me.” Baz said- his voice crackling through the fuzzy connection on his mobile. It was raining- but the water was falling more like heavy mist, clinging to his eyelashes and his hair. 

 

“I’m fine Baz.” She said- it sounded like a sigh, and a half-hearted attempt at a lie. “I can handle myself.” 

 

“I know,” He said- but he remembered how his father always knew to aim a blow so it hurt- but didn’t bruise. “Just.. call me.” He made a weak attempt at a joke. “Indulge your annoying older brother.” 

 

“I will,” She promised- and it was an effort not to let out a sigh of relief, even if he knew she was probably lying. They were all liars, the Pitch family. A cross-stitched quilt of deception and old money- falling apart now that their mother was dead. 

 

“Okay.” Baz said. “Thank you-” And he was about to ask how school was going, or if Mordelia had gotten into that play she tried out for- but she let out another sigh. 

 

“I have to go,” She started, but he interrupted her. 

 

“Listen to me, Mordelia, okay, just call me if anything goes wrong- or Aunt Fiona, or-

 

“I have to  _ go _ .”

 

“Mordelia-” 

 

“Love you too, big brother.” It shouldn't have been a surprise that she hung up so quickly, or that she pushed him away- their family had never been perfect, not even close- but it still stung. The call dropped- and he listened to the hollow, electric hum of the empty line for a few minutes before he put his phone down.

 

Baz walked back to campus after that- back to his tiny little room with too-close walls and sprawling stacks of books. It was nice, small, warm- and it even had a balcony where he could sit and smoke without being bothered. Those were the perks of being an upperclassman, that, and having no roommate. It never felt right though- the room didn’t feel like home, just the same way he felt like something was missing. 

 

Everyone said you’ll feel like something is missing until you find your soulmate- it was like that nagging feeling in the back of your mind when you’re wondering if you left your stove on. Or the moment you walk into the kitchen and you know you went to get something, but you can’t remember what- that biting sensation of  _ something _ . Something he couldn’t remember, because he hadn’t seen it yet. Or really, hadn’t met it yet. Because it was a person, they were always people. 

 

Baz didn’t want people- or a person. He didn’t want  _ anything.  _ He wanted nothing- so that’s what Baz got. A thick white scar where architect handwriting used to be. He thought that if he got rid of the mark- the missing would go away, that  _ other  _ emptiness in the back of his chest when he wasn’t paying attention. 

 

Despite his best efforts, it was still there- pulling and tugging at the red string of fate. Baz wished he could snip it in half- but he didn’t know how. He didn’t even know if it was possible to keep from meeting your soulmate, if you had one. But he wasn’t going to fall in love- he promised himself that. Baz wouldn’t,  _ couldn’t _ , let that happen. 

 

But love, it seemed, was unavoidable. Or maybe that was just Simon. 

 

⊛⊛⊛

 

“What are you doing?” Someone said- and Baz’s stomach lurched. He felt like his forearm was burning- like the words were still there after all this time, even though he knew they weren’t. He’d made sure of that. 

 

Slowly, he shut the lid of his laptop (he was working on his third year seminar) and looked over at the boy who was standing over him, arms crossed in front of his chest. He looked like he was about to tell Baz off for something, but he didn’t get the chance. 

 

“Nothing.” Baz said- because it was what he wanted. He didn’t want this and, really, anyone could ask what he was doing and it wouldn’t matter. It wouldn’t matter, except he felt it. That stupid, nagging, empty  _ something _ was gone the minute they made eye contact. This boy, this stupid bronze-haired and pink lipped boy- gaping at him now- was his soulmate. 

 

“Are you-” The boy started, but Baz stood from his chair abruptly. He didn’t have time for this, he didn’t have time for awkward conversations and explanations on why he had a giant scar on his forearm. He didn’t want to explain his dysfunctional shitshow of a family, he didn’t want to open up to this boy- which was what everyone expected. When you meet your soulmate everything is supposed to just click- but all Baz felt was dread, and warmth, and-  _ fuck,  _ he was  _ not  _ doing this. 

 

“I’m leaving.” Baz said, picking up his sleek, silver laptop and sliding it into his backpack. He had to get out of there, he had to get out of there before that boy started talking again because it was bad enough just looking at him. His soulmate was fucking gorgeous in the way that might’ve been obnoxious if his hair wasn’t such a mess- and if he wasn’t wearing a pair of glasses. (The type with thick frames on the top and wire on the bottom- they made his eyes look like swimming pools.)

 

“Wait, shit-” The boy said, and he looked like he had no idea what to do with himself. “Fuck, I’m sorry are we?”

 

“Soulmates?” Baz snapped. “I fucking hope not.” 

 

The boy recoiled, visibly, like he’d been struck- and Baz actually felt a little bad, but he refused to let it show. He refused to give this boy anything- even if he looked like he was made from stardust and red earth. “I’m sorry,” The boy said. “I didn’t mean to upset you I just thought…” 

 

“That because I said ‘nothing’ that makes me your soulmate?” Baz  _ knew  _ he was this boy’s soul mate- but the other boy might never believe it until he saw the scar. 

 

“Y-yeah.” The boy stammered, flushing pink. Baz knew he was being awful, and a part of him felt bad about it- but he wasn’t going to do this. He promised he wasn’t going to fall in love. 

 

“ _ ‘Nothing _ ’ is a common response when you’re getting asked what you’re doing by a random stranger for absolutely no reason.” Baz said. “I don’t even know you, why would I tell you what I was doing?” 

 

The boy stood up straighter suddenly, and crossed his arms. “Because, I’m an intern at the library and you weren’t supposed to be down here with food.” He gestured at the empty bag of crisps next to Baz’s seat- the ones that were there when he sat down to study three hours ago. 

 

“Cool,” Baz said, unaffected. “They're not mine, and I'm going now.” He  _ was  _ going then- he didn't want to stick around any longer in this boy's view. He didn't want to get pulled in like a fish on a hook- so he turned on his heel and walked away from the boy. He was on the bottom floor, so it would take him a little while to really get out of the suffocating atmosphere of the stacks. 

 

“Wait,” Someone called, and Baz had to hold back a groan. “Stop just.. Wait.” 

 

“What?” Baz said- turning a steely gaze on the library intern. “Did I steal any books? Have you come to prosecute me?” 

 

“No,” the boy said, sighing and running a hand through his thick curls. “ _ God _ , you really are an asshole.” 

 

“Pleasure,” Baz said sarcastically.  “But I have to go so if you have something to say, spit it out.” 

 

“Who pissed in your coffee?” 

 

“Spit. It.  _ Out _ .” Baz sneered. He didn't have want to deal with this, he still had to finish his essay, and he needed to work on his biology lab. 

 

“What's your name?” The boy said. “So I don't go around calling my soulmate asshole all the time.” 

 

That surprised Baz- and it shut him up for a moment. But then he allowed his lip to curl. “I’m not your soulmate, so asshole is just fine- I don’t care what you call me.” 

 

“If you weren’t my soulmate you’d just show me your mark, but obviously you have something to hide.” The boy crossed his arms. “I’m really not that bad.” 

 

“You know it’s rude to ask to see someone’s soul mark?” Baz said- and now he was crossing his arms too, unintentionally mirroring the other boy’s stance. 

 

The other boy watched him stubbornly- refusing to give into Baz’s needling and just leave.“Show me and I’ll leave you alone.” 

 

“Am I supposed to believe that?” Baz laughed- verging on hysterical. He was starting to panic now- because now he saw things he hadn’t noticed before about the boy. Moles. A torn shirt hem. Fingernails that had obviously been chewed short- and they didn’t make Baz like him any less. 

 

“Yes,” The boy said. “I’ll show mine if you show yours.” That struck a chord in Baz- technically he didn’t know for sure this was his soulmate until he saw the mark. It would be in his handwriting if they were actually soulmates. Baz hoped it wouldn’t be; he wished he was born without one, like that girl from his political sciences class- Agatha Wellbelove. He wouldn’t know, he wouldn’t  _ really _ know until he saw it- so he let out a sneer. 

 

“Fine.” The other boy visibly relaxed when Baz gave in, the tension melting off his shoulders and neck . Baz rolled up his sleeve, and held out his arm, letting the other boy take in the wide, white scar. “Is this what you were hoping for?” 

 

The boy tentatively ran a finger over the puckered flesh- and Baz jerked his arm away. “I didn’t say you could touch me.” 

 

“Sorry I-” The other boy said- soft all of a sudden, like he pitied Baz. “What happened?”

 

“That’s none of your business.” Baz said- one hand protectively covering his forearm- despite the fact that he’d willingly shown off the scar. He hated pity. “Just..” Baz sighed. “Hold up your end of the bargain, won’t you?” 

 

“Oh,” The boy said- and rolled up his sleeve- his mark was in the exact same place as Baz’s had been. “Sorry, this is it-” He gestured to the dark scrawl on his arm- and Baz reached out to look at it closer. The other boy didn’t stop Baz from taking his arm- and he didn’t object when Baz shoved him away a moment later. 

 

“So are we soulmates?” He said- like he didn’t already know. Like he hadn’t seen the fear and panic and  _ something  _ in Baz’s eyes. It  _ was _ his handwriting on the boy’s arm- neat cursive just like his mother had taught him. 

 

“Fuck,” Baz said- he wanted to bang his head into the wall. He wanted to set himself on fire. He wanted anything but this- blue eyes and bronze curls and beautiful. “Yeah, we are.” 

 

⊛⊛⊛

 

“Hey asshole.”

 

“ _ What _ .” Baz said through gritted teeth- why did this keep happening? It was like every time he sat down his soulmate appeared out of nowhere. He didn’t even know the boy’s name, still. It’s because he’d been trying to avoid the golden haired boy, trying- and failing miserably. It turned out he was in the same dorm as Baz- on the same floor even, and they’d never met until now. 

 

“You should really stop responding to that,” He said. “Or maybe you should come up with a mean nickname for me, too. So it’s even.” 

 

“Asshat.” Baz said- and the other boy grinned. He’d slid into the seat across from Baz at the dining hall- and his plate was piled miles high with food. 

 

“That’s better, _ asshole. _ ” 

 

Baz let out a noncommittal noise of disagreement, and continued to scroll through the news on his phone as he ate. It wasn’t worth paying attention to the other boy- even though it felt physically painful to tear his gaze away sometimes.  _ Soulmates. _ He couldn’t help it- he found this idiot endearing  _ and  _ annoying at the same time.  Baz just had to do his best to remain detached. 

 

“I could call you something else.” The boy said- dipping a piece of chicken in some sauce before shoving it in his mouth. Normally Baz would’ve been disgusted- and he still was, a little- but it didn’t get on his nerves like it would with someone else. He looked up from the article he was reading- something about terrorism and american politics- and narrowed his eyes at the boy. 

 

“Like what?”  

“I don’t know,” He replied sarcastically. “Maybe your name? Considering we’re soulmates and we live in the same dorm and we see each other  _ all the time _ .” 

 

“That’s not my fault.” Baz grumbled- looking away from the blue-eyed boy. It was sort of like looking at the sun- it hurt to stare, but when he turned away his eyes still burned. 

 

“My friends are starting to think you’re my nemesis; Because they only hear me calling you asshole.” 

 

Baz wasn’t sure if he was teasing or just being mean when he said it. Probably both.“What friends?”

 

The boy kicked him under the table. “Penelope Bunce, idiot, you met her the other day when I ran into you at the library.” 

 

“Oh,” Baz said. “That one.” 

 

“That one?” He echoed. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

 

Baz shrugged- and received a kick in the shin again. It didn’t  _ really _ mean anything, he just enjoyed getting under the other boy’s skin. He liked the way the boy’s eyebrows drew together and his lips pressed into a tight line- and then he liked the way the insults fell off his tongue. Like they weren’t insults, really. 

 

“ _ Asshole _ .” The boy said- like he didn’t mean it, and Baz rolled his eyes. 

 

“I thought you wanted to call me Baz,  _ asshat _ .”

 

“Baz,” the boy echoed- eyes widening. “That’s your name?” 

 

_ Fuck _ \- he thought, he hadn’t meant to say that. “What do you  _ think _ ?” Baz managed- sneering in the process. He was really panicking, because he’d liked the way his name sounded on the boy’s lips. He liked the way the other boy talked, and laughed- he even liked how he was always tripping over his own shoelaces and spilling water on himself. Baz  _ liked  _ this boy- and it wasn’t a surprise, but it scared him. He didn’t want to like this boy, but he couldn’t stop himself. 

 

“Nice to meet you, Baz.” He said- and his eyes were twinkling with something like mirth. “I’m-”

“We’ve already met.” Baz interrupted. “And it was  _ horrible _ to meet you.” 

 

“Mhmm,” his soulmate hummed- rolling his eyes. “Charming as ever, I’m Simon- Simon Snow.” 

 

“Simon,” Baz repeated- it was a fairly common name. But it sounded special now, and it fit the boy perfectly. Simple and beautiful at the same time, like his sun-kissed skin and chlorine water eyes. Baz narrowed his eyes. “You’re an  asshat.” 


	2. chapter two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soooo i'm back from treatment- but i haven't been writing consistently in like?? six months so updates are going to be super slow on my other fics but hey.. at least i'm back

“Hey,” Simon said, spinning around in a half-broken office chair. Baz almost had the decency to feel worried at the way his soulmate teetered in his seat. “Are you going to sleep soon?” The golden-haired boy let out a yawn. “I have to close the library.” They’d been working since sunset- Simon chattering away and Baz making backhanded comments as he worked on his essay. It was late now, only the two of them and the moonlight spilling in through the windows still haunting the library. Baz ignored Simon, and continued working on his assignment, taking another sip of his coffee. He knew the other boy was just sitting behind him, spinning in the chair and talking in circles until Baz almost couldn't concentrate on his homework. “Did you even hear me?” Simon asked, and the dark-haired boy let out a huff. 

 

“Yes,  _ asshat, _ I heard you. I just respectfully chose to ignore you.” 

 

“Oh, I see.” Simon said, spinning in lazy circles as he moved his chair so he was directly across from the other boy. Baz  rolled his eyes and took another sip of his coffee.“You’ve been ignoring me because I'm your soulmate and you have some kind of weird intimacy issues.” Baz hadn’t been paying complete attention to what the other boy was saying, but at his words- he choked on his sip of cold coffee. “I’m not even that bad,” Simon continued. “Yeah, I'm a pretentious English major but you haven’t even given me a chance. I’ve been sitting with you in the library every night for the past month, don’t you think I deserve  _ something _ more than this?”

 

“Are you asking me to sleep with you?” Baz asked, confounded. What was this boy expecting from him? Just because they were soul mates it didn't mean they were going to fall in love, at least not if Baz could help it.“I don’t owe you  _ anything _ .” 

 

“Jesus fuck, Baz.” Simon sounded offended. “ _ No. _ ” 

 

“Then what do you want from me?” 

 

“I just want you to  _ talk  _ to me.” Simon said. “You’re so cold to me all the time- it’s like trying to talk to a block of ice.” The golden haired boy seemed genuinely upset now. “What did I even do to make you hate me so much?”

 

“Nothing,” Baz laughed bitterly. “You just fucking exist.” 

 

“Thanks.” Simon said sarcastically, and despite the nonchalant appearance, Baz could tell that his words had stung his soulmate. “That clears a lot up.” 

 

“Fuck,” Baz stumbled. “God, I didn’t mean it like that.” He really didn’t- it wasn’t Simon that Baz hated, it was the fact that Simon was his  _ soulmate. _ It was the fact that he could see himself falling in love slowly with the other boy, and see himself lying between sheets with Simon as he traced constellations out of the moles on his back. It was the fact that Baz knew the other boy could break his heart, totally and completely- if only he gave his heart to break. 

 

“Then how did you mean it?” Simon shot back, crossing his arms. Baz’s head was in shambles- he didn't know how to explain it without explaining himself, too. He didn’t know how to tell Simon, and keep him at a distance. Baz sighed.

 

“I just never wanted a soulmate, okay?” He gestured to his own soul mark- long gone and covered by a scar. “I never asked for  _ this _ .” Simon looked confused but he didn’t say anything, he just waited for Baz to continue. “I just…” Baz said. “I just wanted to be fine, okay? I  _ was  _ fine- I didn’t- I  _ don’t  _ need to fall in love.” Simon just stared. “I don’t  _ want  _ to fall in love.” 

 

Simon’s voice was careful this time- a side of him Baz hadn’t yet seen. It had been all joking and smiling before now, even when he  _ was  _ blunt. He had been playing a charmer- but now he was something else, something quieter and more subdued. “Are you afraid, Baz?”

 

“I’m not  _ afraid _ \- I just don’t want to fall in love, okay?” Baz said, tearing his gaze away from his soulmate. “Not with you, not with  _ anyone. _ ”

 

“What’s so bad about love?” Simon said. He was still sitting in the rolling office chair, but he’d stilled now, his blue eyes too intelligent and too knowing.

 

“It doesn’t end well.”  _ Dead mothers and broken families and giant white scars _ \- Baz thought.  _ That’s what’s so bad about love. _

 

“You could say that about anything.” Simon replied. “You could say that about  _ life _ .” He paused, staring at Baz. “I think you’re just afraid.” 

 

“I’m not  _ afraid. _ ” Baz sneered. 

 

“Then why won’t you give me a chance?” Simon fired back- and Baz didn’t have a good answer. Normally he could come up with something cool and disdainful to say, but now, he was all out of ammunition. He stood from his chair and scraped together his pile of school supplies.

 

“I’m done with this.” Baz said. “I’ve been putting up with you for the past month and now i’m  _ done.” _

 

“Done with what, Baz?” Simon replied. “You’ve been making sure there was nothing to be done with this whole time. We’re never going to be finished, because we never even started.” 

 

“Fuck off.” Baz hissed, which was how he knew his soulmate was right. He  _ was  _ afraid- but he wasn’t going to do anything about it. He knew he was afraid of being alone, but he was even more terrified of returning to loneliness after a reprieve. It would be even worse, because if he fell in love with Simon- he’d know what it was like to be in love after Simon was gone. He’d know what would be like to be loved- and he’d have to go back to being lonely.

 

Baz never wanted to go back to being lonely, so he was never going to fall in love. 

 

⊛⊛⊛

 

He still saw Simon everywhere- at classes, hanging around the dorm, in quirky coffee shops with pretty girls that Baz  _ didn’t  _ care about. It seemed he was unavoidable. Once, while doing his homework in the library, he saw Simon and Penelope Bunce doing their work, too- sitting two tables away from him and talking in hushed voices. He only caught part of their conversation.

 

“He’s your  _ soulmate _ , Simon- he has to come around eventually” 

 

“He doesn’t want anything to do with me.” Simon’s back was faced towards Baz, and his shoulders hunched forwards. The dark haired boy had to strain to hear their conversation.

 

“He’s your  _ soulmate. _ ”

 

“Compelling argument, Pen.” 

 

“No one has ever succeeded in staying away from their soulmate-” Penelope said confidently. She leaned closer to Simon, and he lost track of what they were saying. Bunce was intelligent, and Baz knew that she was right- but he didn't want to think about it. “-eventually it’d drive him mad.” 

 

“Mad with missing me?” Simon said sarcastically, and she rolled her eyes. 

 

“You know that’s not how it works.” 

 

Baz put in his headphones, then. He didn’t want to hear anymore of what they had to say- he didn't want the reminder that eventually he’d end up with Simon, no matter how hard he tried to avoid it. He was lucky the University hadn’t found out about it- with the way things worked in their society- if you were avoiding your soulmate, generally people higher up would arrange things to force soul mates together. It was ridiculous. His parents had met in university, and his mother had avoided his father until the administration found out about it- and then they were put down as roommates. 

 

Apparently their University didn’t care about co-ed rooming, as long as it was for soul mates only. 

 

For years, research had shown that individuals without soul mates- or individuals who  _ avoided _ their soul mates- were at a higher risk for mental illness and suicide. Baz thought it was all tosh- but most people took it pretty seriously. Once most people found their soul mates, arrangements were made for them to stick together. He was lucky to have escaped notice for this long. 

 

Then again, he hadn’t exactly  _ told  _ anyone about Simon. He didn’t have many friends at Uni, a few distant cousins he met up with for drinks occasionally, and a few classmates he liked well enough to study with. He hadn’t even told his little sister about it- she was at home, working her way through secondary school. He should probably tell her. There was no way in hell he was telling his father, especially because his soulmate was another young man. That wouldn’t fly well with Malcom Grimm.                            

 

Baz liked to keep his romantic life- or  _ lack _ of a romantic life- private. It was easier that way, especially because he hadn’t harbored a real crush on anyone in a long, long while- back when he was in year nine. He’d been attracted to plenty of people since then, and he wasn’t a virgin anymore- but there had never been an emotional connection. It was like the years after that were all leading up to his soulmate. 

 

All leading up to Simon. And now, he supposed, he was squandering it. Even knowing that he was wasting the love of his life- he didn’t want to change. He didn’t want to run to Simon and shed his fear like a second skin. Baz wondered if staying away from Simon had more to do with protecting himself, or more to do with fear. 

 

_ Both _ . He decided, watching Simon from across the room. Baz could see the muscles sliding in the other boy’s shoulder through the white shirt he wore. There was a mole at the nape of his neck, and Baz almost wanted to kiss it.  _ Probably both. _

 

⊛⊛⊛

  
  


“Mordelia?” 

 

His little sister was standing in front of his dorm, arms crossed in a defensive position. She was wearing jeans and a giant sweater to protect herself from the cold. It appeared that she had no physical wounds- but she seemed restless, and her eyes darted back and forth until they rested on Baz.  _ What is she doing here _ ? At only fifteen, Mordelia couldn't drive- So he had no idea how she could’ve possibly gotten to his university. 

 

“What are you doing here?” He took her forearms, and pushed up her sweater sleeves- turning them over. He didn’t know what he was looking for- but he was relieved to find her skin unmarred. He looked into her eyes- grey, just like his- and found nothing out of the ordinary. All the Pitches were talented liars. “Are you okay?” 

 

She shook her arms out of his grip, pushing up her sleeves. “I’m fine, Baz.” 

 

“Then what are you doing here? I thought you had school…” 

 

“Cancelled.” She said flippantly, waving a hand. “Seriously, I’m fine.”

 

“Then what are you doing here?” He repeated. “You’re not here for no reason, Mordelia, I know that.” 

 

She shrugged- her hair was longer than it had been at Christmas, when he last saw her. It was dark and glossy- she looked like a younger version of their mother. “I heard a rumor, and I wanted to see if it was true.” 

 

Baz narrowed his eyes. “What kind of rumor?” 

 

For the first time since their mother died, his little sister cracked an impish smile. “The kind involving soul mates.” She waggled her eyebrows at him- and he felt his stomach drop. 

 

“Oh God, Mordelia. We’re not talking about this.” He really didn’t want to talk about it with his little sister. He was glad to see her, yes, but he didn't want to explain his fears and reluctance about Simon to anyone- least of all her. 

 

She frowned. “Oh come on, Baz. She can’t be that bad, can she?” 

 

“It’s not-” Baz started, and then stopped.  _ She. _ His sister thought his soulmate was a girl. 

 

“It’s not what?”

 

“It’s not like that.” 

 

“At least tell me her name.” Mordelia prodded. He knew she wouldn’t give up until she got answers. 

 

“I’m not talking about this with my  _ little sister _ .”

 

“I’m not five,” She argued. “I’m not going to tell Dad.” 

 

“You’re  _ fifteen _ .” Baz shot back. “How did you even find out about this, anyways?” 

 

“Dev told me.”  _ Of course _ . Baz scowled. Dev was their cousin, and he went to the same University as Baz. He had a loud mouth- but somehow he seemed to know everything that happened on campus. 

 

He swore, and tore a hand through his dark hair. “How did  _ Dev _ find out?” 

 

She shrugged again. “He said he found out from some girl, who found it out from some guy who knew who your soulmate is.”

 

“What girl?” They were still standing in front of Baz’s dorm, and his hands were getting cold. 

 

“It started with a P.” Mordelia said. “Penelope something, I think?” 

 

Baz groaned. Penelope was Simon’s best friend- he knew that she knew about them, but he didn’t think she’d tell anyone about it. It seemed that for once, her common sense had lapsed. “Come on,” Baz said finally. “Let’s get out of the cold.” 

 

“Am I allowed in your dorm?” Mordelia asked, following behind her brother as he walked towards the grey, stone building. 

 

“I’m just getting my jacket.” Baz said, holding the door open for her and ushering them out of the winter weather. It was warm inside, and he scanned the dorm floor for golden hair, glasses, and blue eyes- but found nothing. He let out a barely-noticeable sigh of relief, and then beckoned for Mordelia to follow him. “Come on, my room is on the next floor.” 

 

They took the stairs, because Baz didn’t want to wait for the elevator- and then they walked down a long hallway. His very cramped room was at the end, and he made her wait outside in the hallway. “I’m just getting my jacket.” Baz promised. “And then let’s go get coffee or something, and you can explain yourself.”

 

“I already told you!” Mordelia protested, but Baz rolled his eyes and shut his door on her. It only took him a few moments to find his jacket, and to retrieve and extra hat for his sister. He noticed her ears had turned bright pink from the chill. When he exited his room and locked the door behind him, he turned to find his sister standing farther down the hall, chatting with none other than Simon. In his haste to get his things, Baz had forgotten that Simon lived on the same floor as him. He cursed himself silently, pinching the bridge of his nose, and then called out to Mordelia.

 

“Come on,” He paced over to them anxiously, and then nodded at his sister- ignoring Simon completely. “Let’s go, Mordelia.” 

 

She scowled at him- obviously not finished with her conversation, and Simon interrupted. 

 

“I didn’t know you had a sister.” 

 

“There are a lot of things you don’t know about me.” Baz said, crossing his arms. His expression was complicated, and Mordelia took note of the warring emotions displayed on his face. Fear, and longing. She was one of the few people who could read Baz completely. 

 

“You two know each other?” She interrupted- eyes flicking between the two boys. 

 

“No.” Baz said, at the same time Simon said. “Yes.” 

 

“He’s my-” Simon started, but Baz cut him off, and pulled him off towards the side of the hall- where Mordelia could barely hear them. 

 

“I’m not your  _ anything _ .”

 

Simon rolled his eyes. “You know, you’re going to have to come to terms with this eventually.”

 

“I know.” Baz hissed. “But not when my fifteen year old sister is standing  _ right  _ here.” 

 

“She doesn’t know you’re-?” Simon’s question grew too quiet for Mordelia to hear, and she watched the way the two boys stood with a critical eye. They were too close to each other, and there was a familiarity in the way Baz held the other boy’s wrist- despite his claim they didn’t know each other. A few moments and a few hushed whispers later, her brother released Simon, and the golden-haired boy walked down the hall, away from them 

 

Baz stalked over to his sister and gestured for her to come with him. He was scowling, and taking long strides. Mordelia could practically see the anger simmering off him in cartoon heat waves. “What was that about?”

 

“Nothing.” Baz said. “It was nothing.” 

 

“It didn’t  _ sound  _ like nothing.” Mordelia argued. “And what was he saying? You’re his what?” 

 

“I’m not his anything.” Baz said, and sighed. “I’ll explain later.” 

 

She raised an eyebrow at him- the same way his mother would when she knew he was lying. The women in his family were too similar. 

 

“Fine,” Baz conceded- trying to make up a lie. “He’s my…uh- he’s my lab partner.”

 

“I don’t think he’s your lab partner.” Mordelia said, crossing her arms. “He was looking at you funny. Those weren’t Lab partner looks. Is he gay?- it’s a shame, he was cute.” 

 

“Mordelia!” Baz sputtered. “How would  _ I  _ know if he was gay?” 

 

She shrugged, and stuffed her hands into her pockets as they walked out into the winter air. “You live on the same floor as him. Is he bringing back guys all the time?” 

 

“I don’t think so.” Baz said quietly. “I think he’s waiting for his soulmate.” 

 

“Ah.” Mordelia said. “He’s one of those.” 

 

Baz rolled his eyes at her. “Like you know anything about that.” 

 

His little sister shrugged again. “Who says I haven’t met  _ my _ soulmate?” 

 

Baz rolled his eyes. “If you had met your soulmate already, you would’ve told me by now.” His little sister winked jauntily at him, but it was an unbelievable gesture. “Come on, Mord, we both know that if you found your soulmate there would be pictures of him all over your Instagram.”

 

Her expression flattened. “Whatever.” She huffed, which meant he was right. 

 

⊛⊛⊛

 

Mordelia interrogated him over a cappuccino, but Baz refused to tell her any more than she had already heard through their cousin’s loud mouth. They still had a good time, though, talking and sipping their coffee until it grew cold. It was good to see his little sister- seeing her healthy, happy, and being a general pain in his ass was a relief. It soothed the anxiety boiling under the surface- Baz worried that she’d been handling their mother’s death about as well as him, but it seemed his worries were misplaced. 

 

If she could pester him about his soulmate, she was doing better than he expected. Mordelia left on the night train, and Baz prayed she hadn’t lied about having school off- by the time she got home, the day would be practically over. He knew their father wouldn’t be pleased with her missing school, and it wasn't unheard of for Malcom to lash out in his grief. His little sister wasn’t the only thing he had to worry about, though- he had to talk to Simon. 

 

The only way the other boy agreed to leave Baz alone was with a promise: Bas had to come back after his little sister was gone to ‘at least try to be civil’ and ‘explain himself.’ Also known as buying into the soulmate bullshit. He really didn’t want to see Simon, but a promise was a promise. As soon as Baz made it back to the dorm, he knocked on the other boy’s door and waited.

 

The door swung inward, and Simon stood in the frame, yawning sleepily. He was wearing a black t-shirt that was obviously too small with the way it clung to his frame, and sweatpants that hung low on his hips. He looked like he’d just climbed out of bed, and when Baz looked at his phone, he saw it was ten o’clock- early for a college student to go to bed, but past the polite time to intrude. Simon’s glasses were on a night stand by the bed. 

 

“Here I am,” Baz said by way of greeting. “Promise fulfilled- You look exhausted, I’m just going to let you sleep.” He turned to leave, but Simon snagged him by the wrist and pulled him through the door, rolling his blue eyes spectacularly. They were too close, he could smell the toothpaste on his soulmate’s mouth. 

 

“You’re not getting off that easy, Baz.” 

 

Oh god, Simon’s voice was raspy from sleeping, and something in the way it sounded tugged at his nerves. If there was one thing he couldn’t deny about his soulmate, it was the fact that Baz was attracted to Simon like a heart attack. 

 

“I was just trying to be polite,” Baz lied, and lied again. “You look like shit.” 

 

His soulmate was seemingly unaffected by the statement, and crossed the room to sit down on his bed. “I just woke up, what do you expect from me?” Baz didn’t know where to go, so he just stood by the door uncomfortably. There was nowhere to sit except the floor, or Simon’s bed. His  _ bed _ . The universe was conspiring against him.

 

“ _ I _ look better than that when I wake up in the morning.” 

 

“I’m sure you do.” Simon said exasperatedly, and beckoned with two fingers. “Get over here, I’m not letting you stand there like a skittish cat.” 

 

Baz bristled at the statement, but sat down at the end of his soulmate's bed anyways. “I’m not skittish.” 

 

“Take your shoes off.” Simon said, ignoring the argument. Baz took his shoes off, and scowled at his soulmate. “Now, you’re going to tell me why you’re so against us being together.” 

 

“I told you, relationships never end well.” Simon raised an eyebrow at the simple statement, and Baz rolled his eyes. “Even in the best case scenarios, someone dies.” 

 

“Yeah, but we’re soulmates, we  _ are  _ the best case scenario- plus, we’re in the prime of our youth. I’m not about to  _ die  _ on you, if that’s what you’re so afraid of.” 

 

Baz couldn’t deny it- they were  _ soulmates _ \- it was already established. They were never going to break up, they were never going to get divorced in a mid-life crisis, and Simon looked completely healthy. His reluctance boiled down to three simple words:  _ I am afraid _ . He wasn’t about to tell Simon that, though, so he lied, hoping that his barbed words would make the other boy give up for the night. 

 

“It’s just that..” Baz picked at his nails. “I’m really not attracted to you.”

 

His words didn’t have the desired effect, instead, it seemed to spur Simon on. “Really, now?” The other boy said, a smile playing across his lips. “Then you won’t mind if I come a little closer?” 

 

It was a challenge. “I’ll tell you when to stop.” Baz drawled sarcastically, his mask of cool indifference set perfectly in place. Simon shuffled towards his soulmate across the bed, slowly and deliberately. Baz sat completely still- reacting to the other boy’s proximity would be letting him win. He couldn’t help himself from swallowing though, when Simon’s knee bumped into his thigh. He felt color rising to his cheeks, and his ears, but he didn't tell the other boy to stop until he was halfway straddling Baz. 

 

“Snow,” he said. “That’s enough.” But Simon took his wrist in his hands and pressed his slender fingers down to feel how unnaturally quick Baz’s pulse was. Too fast to be normal, too slow to be fear. He felt his pulse spike even faster at Simon’s touch, and the other boy’s gaze was scalding. 

 

“Liar.” Simon grinned. 

 

“Whatever.” Baz hissed, but it didn’t have any heat to it. His pulse was hammering, and Simon still had him pinned. He didn’t even think when he said it. “I only lied because I know you’re going to leave me.” 

 

Simon froze, and the smile fell from his lips. Baz could hear the blood roaring in his ears- it had been a mistake to tell the truth, and it had been a mistake to trust Simon, even a little bit. It had been a mistake to let him this close, even though he’d been wanting to get even closer. 

 

“Baz…” Simon said, leaning away so they weren’t so close together. His expression was complicated. “I’m not going to  _ leave  _ you. I don’t even think that’s possible.” 

 

Baz’s smile was bitter. “I’m sure you’d figure something out.” 

 

“I don’t even want to figure something out,” Simon’s voice was soft. “I like you Baz, even though you’ve been a giant asshole, I still like you. You’re my soulmate, you just  _ feel  _ right.” 

 

“I know.” Baz said. “But I don’t know how to believe it.” 

 

“Just try to let me in,” Simon said, and he was leaning forwards again. For a second Baz thought his soulmate was going to kiss him, but Simon just rested his face in the crook of Baz’s neck. “Let me in, Baz. You don’t have to be alone.” 

 

The feeling of Simon’s breath against his skin was enough to make Baz shiver, and then his soulmate really  _ did _ kiss him. He tasted like crest toothpaste, and his mouth was so hot it made Baz feel like he was swallowing the sun. Simon slipped his tongue inside Baz’s mouth, and Baz couldn’t help the sigh that escaped his lips. He’d kissed people before, but it never felt like this- It never felt like coming home. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> btw this was posted by e_li_za bc me n carly are HELLA BROS!!!!! also hope u liked it lol


End file.
